


Melting Honey

by annabeth_at_the_helm



Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Awkward Flirting, Drunken Flirting, Drunken sexual advances, Drunkenness, F/M, Korean War, Mild Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:21:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24221224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annabeth_at_the_helm/pseuds/annabeth_at_the_helm
Summary: "I always thought you were cute," she said, rubbing her face against his left pec. "Take care of me, McIntyre."
Relationships: Margaret "Hot Lips" Houlihan/"Trapper" John McIntyre
Kudos: 9





	Melting Honey

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shadesofhades](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadesofhades/gifts).



> written for "aggressive" for Get Your Words Out Yahtzee. I went with sexually aggressive, so I hope that works.

"She's plastered," Trapper said, laughing as Margaret lurched forward unsteadily.

"Come on, boys, be good and take care of her before the wounded arrive," Henry said, and waved vaguely in the direction of Margaret. Radar shook his head.

"Wounded in forty-five, sir," he said. "I'll bring you the duty roster."

"Radar, bring me the duty roster." Both of them spoke at once. Trapper shook his head; Margaret finished her forward lurch and landed in Trapper's arms.

"I always thought you were cute," she said, rubbing her face against his left pec. "Take care of me, McIntyre."

Trapper thought Margaret was beautiful—who didn't?—and he knew Hawkeye would've had her in the VIP tent in a trice and out of her knickers about three seconds later, but he, Trapper, was not so easy.

"Now, Margaret, you'll regret it in the morning," he said, gently trying to pry her off. She clung like a limpet, though, refusing to be budged. Somehow the very drunk managed to be like intelligent octopi, with too many limbs and bodies too heavy to easily maneuver. Margaret was no different; she swayed against him, sliding her hand down over his belly. Trapper grabbed it and pulled it back, but somehow her other hand was instantly there.

"I just want a taste," she whimpered, pressing her damp, swollen mouth against his bare bicep. Trapper had to admit it felt nice. And maybe if she weren't drunk… he'd be willing to take her up on her offer.

The problem was, she'd never make the offer if she were sober. So he called over his shoulder, "Hawk, gimme a hand."

Hawkeye leaned over, smirking. "She wants you," he said, straight-faced as he stated the obvious.

"Yeah, for _now_ ," Trapper said. "But just imagine Ferret Face if I slept with her."

"Ooh, terrifying," Hawkeye said, shivering. Margaret, apparently oblivious to their conversation, had managed to get her hand up his army-issue t-shirt. Her hand was warm and callused and felt heavenly against his skin.

"C'mon, honey, let's get you sobered up, 'kay?" Trapper grabbed that hand too, and she sighed lustily.

"Maybe just one kiss?" she asked, lifting her face hopefully. Then she slumped slackly against him. Trapper gathered her up—she was a tasty armful—and carried her towards the showers.

"Time to sober up," he said, and she mumbled sleepily. Hawk finally stopped laughing at them and helped Trapper haul her to the showers.

Once under the spray, Margaret revived enough to put the moves on Trapper again, fisting handfuls of his t-shirt, soaking him with her wet hair even as her equally wet lips pressed little random patterns into his chest.

"Margaret, honey," Trapper said. He peeled her off and passed her to Hawkeye, where she reached up and ran her fingers through Hawk's black hair, getting it wet and mussed.

"Take me, McIntyre," she said, clearly soused enough not to realize she had been transferred.

"And with that, I'll take my leave," Trapper said, and escaped.


End file.
